Changing Faces
by MurderComplication
Summary: Newt was kidnapped from the berg when his friends left to explore a town. He fell dangerously ill - ending up on the doorstep of Riley. She helps to nurse him back to health, balancing her mission to help as many ill as she can and her job as town prostitute.
1. Preface

**Riley**

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

I was pulled from my slumber by that incessant rapping. I forced myself from my bed, wrapping myself in a sheer lace robe that showed my lingerie. I made my way out of my bedroom, through my small kitchen and into the living room to the door. I opened it with the deadbolt still on, just enough to see my late night visitors. Two men stood there, propping up a third younger specimen between them. He did not look good at all. "Gonna let us in?"

I sighed, closing the door so I could undo the deadbolt. I opened the door and let the three drag themselves in. "Put 'em on the bed to your left." I watched as they left him in an awkward lump on the bed. "What do you have in mind for payment?"

The men sneered, each taking out a long machete. "This good enough for you."

I rolled my eyes, opening my robe enough for them to see the revolver in my garter. "Care to make a wager on whose faster?" Their faces paled. I smiled, "payment?"

The one who spoke began to grumble, tossing me a glass jar of vibrant blue liquid. "Kid's all yours after." The two hurried left out my door, letting it slam shut behind them. I smirked, looking the jar over. My stock of Bliss was getting low. I put the bolts back in place before moving to the kid. I placed the Bliss on the nearest table before I took the kid in. He looked to be quiet tall – at least a foot taller than myself, and I stood at about five three. Dirty blonde hair that came to just over his shoulders, very dirty clothing and skin. His face was contorted in pain. I began to strip him down to his underwear, making sure to look over his body for any signs that he had faced a crank. Thankfully there was nothing. I left him for some clean cloths and a basin of water to try to clean him up. I placed everything on the side table, wetting a cloth and began to work at scrubbing the dirt and grim from as much of him as I could.

After I had cleaned his face, he did not look half bad. Maybe sixteen or seventeen – about my age then. Once I had finished cleaning the kid up I placed a clean, damp cloth on his forehead. If he did not have the flare, then the only option had to be some form of cold. I reached under the bed and pulled out one of my kits, opening it in one fluid motion. I pulled out a syringe that I had prefilled with a dose of morphine and injected it into his arm. His face seemed to instantly relax, leaving just the slight shaking and sweating. I pulled the blanket over him, adjusting the pillow below his head.

I ran a hand through my half head off head of hair as I moved across the room to an old black sofa, throwing a blanket over myself and settled in for the remainder of the night.


	2. Chapter 1

**Newt**

Something cold and wet laid on my forehead. I was surrounded by softness. Something firm, but soft below me, and something light and warm above me. Wait. I had to be in a bed with a sheet over me. My eyes felt heavy. I forced them open, instantly shutting them due to the bright light that filled the room. I groaned, slithering my hand out from under the sheet. I removed the damp cloth from my forehead, balling it up before letting it rest beside me. I ran my hand through my hair as I stared up at the white ceiling above me. Small cracks ran long in various spots, but there was no other sign of damage. I froze, footsteps walking down a creaking staircase. Two sets? Just where was I? I propped myself up on my elbows, peaking through the small door-less doorframe.

"And you're sure he'll get better after he takes this?" A shaky feminine voice asked as a door creaked open. It was older, more mature.

Another girl chuckled, "if he's not any better by tomorrow night, bring him in." The second voice was a slightly higher register and much younger. Similar to Theresa's and Sonya's actually. But, it was smooth and delicate. "Remember, one a day with food." The door closed and a myriad of locks clicked into place. I threw the blanket off of me, but scrambled to put it back in place once I realized that I was only wearing my boxers.

The room was very plain. The double bed with lavender sheets that I was currently in, a wood stained desk beside me. It was covered in papers, vials, diagrams, and medical instruments. I couldn't be in a hospital; it was far too 'homely'. Across from me was a black sofa, a deep green blanket folded neatly on the back on it.

"Good, you're finally awake." I jumped slightly at the voice. It was the younger one. She was leaning against the door frame. She was quite attractive. Long dark, slightly curly black hair – the left side had been clipped down to the scalp. She was very curvaceous; large bust, tiny waist, and shapely hips. She wore a plain off-white t-shirt that had been tied in a knot at the side, to make it more form fitting, and tight faded black jeans with a few rips. Her skin was pale for those living in the scorch. "Guessing you're hungry?" Her arms were crossed below her bust.

"Who are you?" My voice came out deep, dry, and crackling.

She smirked, "Riley. The medic in this city. Your 'friends' brought you here three night ago." I rose an eyebrow. I had been kidnapped by some Red Shirts from our berg, it could not have been my friends. "Two goons tried to use you as an excuse to rob me. They didn't have the balls to do so and left you here." She stalked across the room, a roll of white cloth in her left hand. She bent down, opening a drawer in the desk before she began to rummage through it. I felt my breath hitch in my throat. She had a gun wedged into her back pocket. I leaned over, attempting to snatch it from her pocket. How could I know if I could trust this girl? She lowered her hips until the gun was out of my immediate reach. "Trying to shoot the hand that's fixing you?"

"How do I know you won't do the same?" I questioned, watching her rise slowly – her front to me.

She leaned over, palms resting on the blanket just shy of my hip. Her face inches from mine. "I keep two guns on me at all times for my own, and my patient's protection." She paused for a moment. "You're probably wondering where your clothes are. I cleaned you up best I could when you came in. Shower's upstairs, first door on the left. Fresh clothes are on the windowsill. I'll make you some food while you do that." She pushed herself off of the bed, and left the room. I threw off the blankets, moved my legs over the edge of the bed and stood. "You don't want to stand up to quick either!" A wave of dizziness hit me, forcing me back down onto the bed.

I made another attempt to stand, much more slowly this time. I padded, barefoot across the cold tiled floor, peaking my head out of the doorframe. Riley was rifling through the fridge. The small handgun still in her back pocket. What if this girl worked for WICKED? I began to make my way up the steep staircase, it creaked with every motion. These stairs were going to be a pain on my leg. I entered the first door on my left, opening it with my good foot. The bathroom looked a lot better in comparison to the one in the Glade. Bathtub with a shower attachment; toilet, sink and a large mirror. I shut the door, locking one of the ten deadbolts before I took off my boxers. Where was I supposed to put these? My clothes were folded neatly on the large, boxy windowsill, a bin half full of dirty clothing below it. I shrugged, dropping them into the bin before turning my attention to the bath. I stepped in, pulling the shower curtain shut. I turned the water on, letting it run over my back until it got warm. It felt good to take an actual shower again. I took my time – who knows how long until I could get another one? It had taken me at least half an hour until I reluctantly turned the water off, the water had gone cold.

I stepped out of the tub and dried off with the blue towel that had been laid out. I picked up the clothes on the windowsill – they weren't mine. How many guys had been through here? The clothes seemed to be my size. I shrugged them on. The jeans fit snuggly on my hips, and the black t-shirt with a faded red design was just a little big. I took a moment, staring at myself in the mirror – mainly at the shirt to figure out what could be on the shirt, but it just seemed like a broken red blob. I looked much more like a teenager than before. I threw the towel into the basket before I started down the stairs. I had to stop about halfway down, my wind felt as if it were knocked out of me.

Riley peaked her head out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Not feeling so hot?" She moved to start up the stairs – but I raised a hand for her to stop. She placed a foot on the first step. "You've been out solid for who knows how many days. It'll take a bit more for you to heal up." She took another step. "Come on, let me help you so we can get some food in you." My head began to spin, forcing me to fall back and sit on the steps and rest my head in my hands. She threw her head back, her lips moving but nothing was audible. Her head rolled back to face me before she took a step up the stairs. "What's your name?" I didn't respond. She sighed, taking the last few steps up to me before sitting below. We sat in silence for a few moments, my head slowed slightly. "I'm not moving until you let me help you. I guess you want cold food then." She shifted her weight and reclined.

"It's Newt," I mumbled. She turned her head just enough for me to see her face. Riley was smiling.

"Going to let me help you now?" She asked. Her eyelashes were so long that they hit the space above her eyelid. I saw a glint of silver peak out from inside of her top, her second gun. I reluctantly let a hand fall from my head and opened it toward her. She gracefully stood on the death trap of a staircase and took my hand, helping me stand. Her hand moved to grip my wrist before she carefully walked backwards as I used her and the rail to support my weight down. Once we were finally at the bottom, she did not let go of me. I began to walk into the kitchen, the smell of a savory soup filling my nostrils. Her hand let go of my wrist so she could follow behind me. I dropped myself down into one of the mix-matched chairs at the kitchen table. I watched as Riley walked over to the counter space beside the stove before she brought over a plate and a bowl, placing the two in front of me with a spoon. It looked to be a goulash and grilled cheese. Riley pulled out a chair at the end of the table and sat down, crossing her arms on the edge. "What reason would they have to kidnap you?"

I picked up the spoon, sending a look. "Why do you help people?"

She smirked. "Parents died a long time ago. Harper took me in when I was ten. She taught me everything she knew as the only medic in this town – before she caught the Flare and killed herself. With a town this bustling and far from another, we can't afford to not have one. So I took over." I took a small taste of the soup. It was amazing. I picked up the bowl and began to shovel it back. "Be careful, you haven't eaten in at least three days."

Knock.

Knock.

Riley looked down at her watch quickly before making her way over to the door, undoing every lock but one lock and chain. She propped the door open until the chain would not let it open further, "can I help you?"

"We have an appointment?" A deep masculine voice growled from the other side. Riley shifted her weight before closing the door, undoing the last lock, before opening it up again – allowing room for the man to step in before shutting it closed behind her. The man was tall, tan, and burly with a thick mass of hair on his head and face. His eyes stopped on me and gave me a long once over. "I thought I was your only one today."

"He's not a _special_ patient." Riley clarified, redoing all of the locks on the door. She took a key out from around her neck and locked the door. The man shrugged before trudging upstairs. Riley stood at the bottom of stairs, watching him until he got to the top before turning her attention back to me. "Get some more rest after you're done eating. Leave it for me to clean. There's a few books in a box by the sofa if you get bored." She bit her lip. "I'll be a little while." With that, she turned and ran up the stairs. It was silent for a few moments before a low, masculine moan broke it.

* * *

A/N

Thank you to HappinessMoreOrLess for reviewing! And thank you for those of who that followed or favourited! I hope that you all enjoy this roller coaster ride.


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